al-Ghassel al-Qudra - Dirty Laundry
by Mini Goat
Summary: The House that Jack Built: Jack has a plan. It's not a great plan but it's the only plan he's got


**_AN:_**_ Jack is playing the long game. How long will it take Sam to want him bad enough that she finally just caves? Two weeks after __**Star Gazing**_

**al-Ghassel al-Qudra - Dirty Laundry**

Jack stood in the doorway of the laundry room and let out a low whistle at the bent over figure in front of the dryer. He'd been watching her for a couple seconds to make sure he was hitting on the gorgeous blond he had the hots for instead of pulling a Daniel and whistling at the wrong girl.

"Gross." She mumbled as she stood up until she saw who it was. "Oh. What's up?" her voice startled and her bright blue eyes wide.

Well that's a hell of a loaded question he thought. "Not much, just needed to do some wash." He said casually. She didn't need to know he'd been keeping tabs on when she did her laundry so he could finally talk to her. She'd been avoiding him since the incident on the roof a couple weeks ago.

"Yah, me too." She emptied a washer into the now empty dryer and hit start. "Unit three is open." She said helpfully.

"Thanks." He walked down the line of washers and dryers and opened the unit she suggested and wrinkled his nose. "I need to put up a sign to leave these open when not in use. This one needs to run a sanitize cycle." He said in disgust and set it up. "I guess I'll wait." Jack leaned against the empty dryer behind him and grinned at Sam who was folding her cloths.

"I could text you when I'm done." Sam tried.

"Nah. I'm trying to avoid work by doing my laundry. I can kill a half an hour hanging out." Sure, it was a cheap play but dammit he just wanted to talk to her.

Sam tried to shrug casually.

"Carter."

"Jack?"

"Are you avoiding me?" His voice was silky.

"Of course not." She said defensively. "I've just been very busy."

"It's summer Carter, even you can't talk them into scheduling more than two classes right now. Are you mad at me?"

"What? No!" But the hands that folded her jeans shook a little.

Jack straightened and walked casually over to her until he was invading her space. "Sam." Her name was low and sultry from his mouth and he watched her swallow involuntarily. Yah, he'd read this right. "It's ok to want different things."

Sam took a shuddering breath and refused to look at him while she folded things in an agitated manor. "Yes, but what you want and what I want right now are vastly incompatible."

Jack put a warm long fingered hand on her cheek and turned her chin to face him. "Sam. You didn't ask what I want."

Sam looked up at him, her eyes a mix of desire and panic. "You said you don't just want a fling." God why did his eyes have to be so warm and creamy like pools of cappuccino.

"I don't."

"Well, then we want different things beca-"

Jacks lips covered hers, closed at first until she let out a small moan and her hand came up to grip his shirt.

The next thing either of them knew she was sitting on the folding table, her legs wrapped around Jack's hips as he ravished her mouth and explored the silky skin under her shirt with his long calloused fingers while her fingers dug into his neck and back trying to urge him closer.

"Jack." She moaned into his mouth.

Jack answered her by stroking his thumbs over her lace covered breasts making her gasp. But with an amused grin he slid his hands from under her shirt and backed away a little.

"This isn't a fling Sam." He told her while grinning slightly. She was disheveled and looked disappointed that he'd broken contact. Good.

"I'm not looking for anything permanent."

"You've said that."

"Jack I'm serious."

"Yup. Me too." He said with another grin. "I think I'll come back later and wash my stuff. See you later Sam." He picked up his basket and strolled casually out of the laundry room leaving a gape-mouthed Sam Carter staring after him in shock.

"Son of a bitch." She muttered and went back to savagely refolding the laundry she'd knocked over in her lust fueled make out session with her hot landlord. 'Jack O'Neill, you suck,' she thought savagely but now having kissed him twice she was having difficulty thinking about anything other than how it would feel to finish what they started and be his lover. Would he be savage and dominant or gentle and sweet or some delicious combination of both?

She honestly didn't know what to do. She wanted him. It was _very_ obvious he wanted her. That wasn't a side arm pressing between her legs. But then he'd just left after kissing her like _that_.

Seriously, what the actual fuck was his game.


End file.
